Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/42

40 Once more to glimpse her happy face, And while my rhymes of cheer I’m ringing, Across the sunny sweep of space To hear her singing, singing, singing.

, April.

Well, here’s the thing that has turned the tide for me. It is somewhat in the vein of “Sourdough” Service, the Yukon bard. I don’t think much of his stuff, but they say he makes heaps of money. I can well believe it, for he drives a Hispano-Suiza in the Bois every afternoon. The other night he was with a crowd at the Dome Café, a chubby chap who sits in a corner and seldom speaks. I was